


Unfinished Tea

by Wholockedmywandinthetardis



Category: Patrick Melrose (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wholockedmywandinthetardis/pseuds/Wholockedmywandinthetardis
Summary: Reader finds that bad days tend to sneak up on Patrick with ease. Even if he's just making tea.
Relationships: Patrick Melrose/You
Kudos: 2





	Unfinished Tea

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: REFRENCE TO PATRICKS FATHER ANR CHILDHOOD, NO DIRECT MENTION OF HIS ABUSE

It was a cold day. The snow had finally settled on the ground in England, as it covered the earth like a beautiful white blanket. No one had yet been out and about to ruin the perfection that stretched miles into the fog.

The flat was quiet, which worried her. Patrick was suppose to be making tea. He always talked to himself while making tea. Sometimes he would hum a tune she couldn’t quite place, to her it sounded as if it was done originally on piano, and other times he would bark at the kettle for startling him by finishing “quicker than it was allowed to.” The silence was very unsettling. 

She pulled herself up from the warm armchair she had nested well into in Patrick’s room. The warmth leaving from her back as she stood straightening her loose joggers and baggie tee. She placed the book she had taken to read last night into her hand and made her way through the long white corridor of his small flat. She rounded the corner through the open doorway on her right, which lead into the sitting room. It was the most used room in the flat, and once the most dirtiest. Before Patrick had asked her to move in that is.

She moved quietly across the floor to the window, gently moving back the curtains to let in a bit of natural light in case Patrick didn’t want to face the world again today. He needed at least a few minutes of sun, even if it was on his way to close the curtains. Finally before dispersing from the room she placed the book she had taken off the shelf back into it’s designated spot. Patrick had everything done a certain way, and she didn't want to move too fast for change. Anything she could do to lessen the chance of a bad day was worth doing.

The sitting room contained an open doorway to the kitchen. Small enough that she couldn’t see Patrick from where she was until making her way quietly to lean into it. She watched him for a moment. He stood there, hands gripping the counter, staring off into the sink. The kettle was on the stove, but the stove was not on. She could tell the water had long finished boiling.

She had to be careful not to startle him, if she did and today wasn’t already a Bad day it would sure turn into one. A pin could drop in the room right now and you would hear it.

She stood up straight, fidgeting with her shirt again, and took a slow deep breath. 

“Patrick?” she said gently, just loud enough for him to hear if he was listening for anything other than his inner ghosts.

He twitched, but did not turn around. 

She took this as a response that it was okay to proceed closer, and made her way slowly to his back. 

“Patrick, are you alright? I thought you came round to make tea, but when I didn’t hear you shuffling about-"

She heard him swallow hard, and he proceeded to turn around. He had dark circles under his sad green eyes. His hair was damp against his head, and she could tell he had been in an horrified sweat. She frowned. 

“I- um I’m fine.” He said quickly “I just got lost along the way. You know I'm not very good with directions.” He let out a huff instead of a fake chuckle he intended on doing to ease the tension.

He wasn’t fine, she knew that, but you couldn’t just up and ask Patrick to tell you what was wrong. He didn’t work that way. He had to feel like be was safe to tell you, and even now, he struggled to feel safe anywhere. 

She watched as he lost the last bit of color his face possessed. He turned briefly to the sink and swallowed hard again. 

"Its-" warm tears formed ready to roll down his gentle face. For just a brief moment, she saw a small little Patrick in front of her. Afraid of the world.

Her heart sank. It ached. It ached for him in a way she couldn't explain. It was like a part of her soul was broken, just as his was. She wanted to hold him.

She pulled him in for a hug, he rebled at first, but gave in as she gripped him tighter.

Patrick had made it known well into the beginning of their friendship that he didn't like people to see him cry. She wouldn't dare let him stand there sobbing and watching him. She held him close, his face hiding now in the crook of her neck as he sobbed. He hoovered over her in height, but it didn't matter. She'd stand there and let all his weight fall onto her. She'd bare his burdens and hunt his ghosts. 

As patrick began to regain his composure, he pulled back briefly and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"How about I take over?" She suggested.

Patrick shrugged, happy to let her take his place, and with quick strides made his way to his sofa.

As she moved to the sink she saw her favorite mug, broken into large pieces.

She knew now that today was going to be a bad day. She had his father to thank for that.

/Don't tell my father/

/I won't/


End file.
